


They Will Come Back

by ViridianShark (MissLovegood)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Clothed Sex, Coming Untouched, Don't Examine This Too Closely, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Not Canon Compliant, Past Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Past Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Past Sokka/Yue (Avatar), Porn Watching, Premature Ejaculation, Secret Identity, Sex Work, Skyrim - Freeform, Sort Of, Strangers to Lovers, the suspension of disbelief is strong with this one, they're grown don't worry about it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28443675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLovegood/pseuds/ViridianShark
Summary: Zuko needs a job. Zuko has never had a job before. Why not try camming?Sokka works at a coffee shop down the street. Its not enough to get by, but luckily he's been making videos for a certain video hosting website for a long while now.What happens when they meet each other?(｡・//ε//・｡)And AU out of time, 6 years post canon.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	1. Alone At Last

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of Zuko being a camboy lives in my brain rent free. Now, yours too!
> 
> Thanks to igotfiregirl for the support (◍•ᴗ•◍)💜

Zuko, for the first time in his life, is alone. Truly, really- alone.

He drops the duffle full of his clothes on the floor, and places a box labeled  **Careful!!** on his small dining table in the center of the studio. Of course he'd had some  _ alone time _ when he lived at home, but it wasn’t like this. Now he has a whole apartment all to himself.

Zuko shuffles the 5 feet from the table to his bed, and lets out a deep sigh.  _ Am I too tired to make my bed? Does it matter?  _ He stares for a couple seconds before dropping heavily, face first and groaning, onto his bare mattress. Zuko turns his head to the side when the pressure on his nose becomes too great, and huffs out a breath. His things are scattered throughout the studio. He can see almost the entire apartment from where he's laying.  _ Well, _ he thinks,  _ at least it’s all mine. _

Closing his eyes, Zuko concentrates on the flames in the lights on the walls, snuffing them out all at once. His shoulders are still tense; there is still so much to do before he'll feel at home, until he can feel  _ safe _ again. He takes a deep breath in,  _ Don’t have to think about any of that right now,  _ and lets it out slowly. A  _ ping! _ from his phone makes him jump and tense, quickly pawing around at his things on the bed until he finds it. It could be-

Oh.

A text from his sister.  _ I shouldn't be surprised, it's not like anyone else ever texts me anymore.  _ Zuko scowls at his locked phone. _ Mai won't even talk to me, but I guess that's fair _ , he thinks bitterly.  _ I did leave her a shitty note telling her I was gay and moving to Ōchaba City. Spirits, I still feel so guilty for that, but I can't face her. I can't bear to look at her sad face. She might have stabbed me anyways. _

He brings his focus back to his phone again, unlocking it to read the text.

(9:53pm)  _ Azula _ **_:_ **

**> did u make it**

Zuko sighs. He has mixed feelings about Azula. Guilt, fear, and love among them. He hasn't forgiven himself for leaving her with their father when they were kids. Their father completely cut him and Uncle off after he left; Ozai blocked their calls, and refused them entry into the estate. Azula never did tell him what happened in the three years she spent alone with the man. He can only assume. Mouth twisting into a scowl, he rolls onto his back. The screen of his phone is too bright for his eye, but he intends to keep this short.

(9:57pm)  _ Me: _

**> all moved in thx**

He puts his phone on vibrate and flips it face down on his bed.  _ Time for sleep. _ Closing his eyes again, he tries to picture something nice. Something soothing.

Unfortunately, his phone buzzes loudly next to his ear, twice. He grunts in annoyance and grabs it. Azula again.

(9:58pm)  _ Azula: _

**> good**

**> uncle misses you, it’s pathetic.**

His heart twinges at that. Glad as he is that Uncle has taken in Azula when she came to them -bleeding and still proud- Zuko doesn't envy him now. Azula is a lot to handle on a good day, but she was at least  _ trying _ to be nice to him and Uncle these days. His phone buzzes again.

(10:00pm)  _ Azula: _

**> visit soon.**

(10:00pm)  _ Me: _

**> I will** .

He turns off his phone screen and shoves it to the other side of his bed, away from his face. It doesn't buzz again, and he dozes off, still fully dressed.

* * *

Zuko needs a job. Zuko has never had a job before.

He was 16 when he left his father's home for good, and he had lived under Uncle's roof for the last six years. The first three years were  _ rough.  _ Zuko lashed out at anyone who tried to help, namely Iroh. A man of less patience wouldn't have made it. Thankfully, Iroh was an unshakable force.

The last three years were  _ different _ , and difficult in new ways. Azula wasn't used to living without an endless supply of cash, and quickly burnt herself out. They eventually settled into a solid rhythm, but it was not easy getting there.

Though he couldn't admit it out loud, Zuko had been afraid that his father would come to find him. Finish what he started when he burned Zuko's face as a child. Somehow Uncle always knew when Zuko was feeling anxious about being in one place for too long, because he insisted every time that he needed a change of pace, and " _ isn't Gaoling lovely at this time of year _ ?" They traveled around the world that way, though Zuko was too angry to really enjoy it a lot of the time.

That changed when Azula came to them. Zuko can't remember any other time that she had ever gone to anyone for help. They fought constantly, but had a mutual respect and understanding for each other that only came from shared trauma. Azula wasn't one for a Nomadic lifestyle and insisted that if their father  _ did _ come to kill Zuko that she would just have to kill him first. Zuko was touched, and they settled on Ba Sing Se. 

Through means unknown (and unasked) to Uncle, Zuko and Azula secured a small tea shop with an apartment above it. Zuko was proud to help his Uncle achieve his dreams, even if he didn't understand them.

Helping around at The Jasmine Dragon, while definitely staying out of sight of  _ customers _ ,  _ ugh, _ didn’t really count as a job to him. All he did was clean up and boil water anyways. Azula was really no help at all, but she made excellent security. For the most part, she hung around the shop on her phone, glaring intimidatingly at anyone she deemed suspect. Making tea for customers was probably his least favourite part. Zuko liked tea, sure, and tried his best to make it like Iroh. He never made it quite right, but he's been getting better.  _ Or, I was. _ He thought, frowning.  _ I'm going to have to continue making tea here if I want to make Uncle happy when he visits. _ He nods to himself, and makes a mark on a list in his head to buy a teapot.

Uncle and Zuko took one last trip through the Earth Kingdom on their way to Ōchaba City. Contrary to his previous trek across the vast countryside, he and Iroh had a lot of fun in the two and a half weeks it took to get to his new home. Without stops it would have been a much shorter journey, but Zuko couldn't fault Iroh for wanting to spend a little more time with him.

_ It's not like I'll never see him again. I'll visit after I get a job. _ Zuko runs his hands through his hair, fingers catching on a tangle. It won't budge.  _ Ugh, I need a shower.  _ He gives up on the snarl, resigning himself to bad hair.  _ Not like anyone can see it. _ He's still sitting on his bed, but he had shed his shirt and jeans in the night. Zuko sleeps hot.

He flops back with a soft  _ whump.  _ What is he even qualified to do anyways? He thinks for a few seconds, then rolls over with a growl.  _ Whatever, I'll figure it out later.  _ Though his father had disinherited him when he left, Zuko still managed to scrimp and save enough to get him by. Enough for a little while, at least.

It is silent in the studio, apart from his breathing and the hum of his shockingly red refrigerator. It is the newest appliance in the whole place, by far. The walls are adorned with gas lamps, and his stove is gas fueled as well. Uncle found the place for him, the landlord an old Pai Sho buddy of his. Rent isn't exorbitant, but he definitely needs to find work fast.

He reaches blindly over the side of his bed for his laptop, before remembering it was still packed and in the kitchen area.

" _ Ugh _ ," he groans to himself, "fuck you then." It was the first thing he'd said out loud since saying goodbye to Uncle yesterday. It wasn't forever by any means, but it was the most sincerely upsetting goodbye he had ever made. Iroh was more a father to him than Ozai had ever even tried to be.

Zuko pats around the slippery mattress, hands alighting on his prize;  _ I still have my phone, whatever. _ Zuko props himself up on his elbows, opens a browser and starts typing. 

" Jobs in Ōchaba City "

4687 results. Zuko blanches, that was far too broad. He stares at the search bar for a solid minute, trying to think of things to add to his search. He blinks several times in succession and closes the tab. He glances at the time, 10:38am.  _ I'll find a job later _ , he promises himself.  _ For now, maybe… _

On instinct, Zuko looks around his surroundings. Still alone. He turns back to his phone and opens a private tab on his browser. Finally, some  _ alone time _ that doesn't involve a cramped shower, or anxiety about being caught.

Zuko taps around until he can get to the Gay section of this particular website, and scrolls through videos of men in various positions. Just the idea of being free to do whatever he wants as loud as he pleases is arousing. He squirms against the mattress, half chub already making itself known.

He scrolls through pages of semi-interesting videos, not bothering to do a proper search. A video of a fully dressed Water Tribe man stripping in the thumbnail gives Zuko pause. He  _ does _ love a good strip tease. He glances at the username: MeatbendingMaster. Zuko rolls his eyes, but taps the thumbnail.

The first thing he sees when he hits fullscreen and the autoplay kicks in is a  _ very _ close, very blurry shot of  _ his crotch? Maybe this was a mistake.  _

The frame shakes and the man pulls back a few feet to stand in front of the camera. Zuko can see from just above the man's elbows down to his knees. The man toys with the hem of his sweater for a moment, pulling it up and out of frame to show his bare stomach beneath. He slides his fingers through his happy trail, reaching up to pinch at a nipple. Zuko's mouth goes dry and he swallows thickly. This Water Tribe guy is  _ built. _ He finishes taking off the sweater, and tosses it on the floor to his left. Not technically a very good strip show, but Zuko has no complaints. The man on screen smoothes his hand over his abs, dipping the tips of his fingers into the waistband of his dark blue leggings.

Zuko's cock gives a decidedly  _ interested _ throb against the mattress.

"Do you wanna see?" Zuko jumps when the man on the screen speaks, forgetting that he is allowed to have the volume up. 

"Yeah, I thought so." Zuko can hear the smile in the man's deep voice. He wants to hear more.

The bulge in the water tribe man's leggings is considerable, and only growing larger. He touches himself lightly, running his fingers along the outline of his cock, and gives a soft sigh at the friction. He rubs a little harder and hums, low and a little grumbly. Zuko's hips roll into the mattress without his permission.

"You made me so hard," the man says quietly, "you're doing such a good job."

Zuko's hips jolt and his cheeks burn. Something about those words make his stomach twist with arousal. MeatbendingMaster rubs,  _ fuck, even thinking that username is the worst,  _ rubs the heal of his hand into his cock, pressure just past teasing.

"You're so good, fuck you're making me  _ leak _ ," the man moans the last word as he grips himself through his leggings. Zuko lets out a soft whine, rolling his hips now with more purpose.

"Seriously, look." And the man gets close to the camera again, crotch taking up the entire shot. The camera autofocuses after a moment and  _ Yes, Spirits look at that, fuck. _ Zuko thinks as he grinds into his slippery bare mattress. The front of the man's leggings sport a dark, damp spot at the tip of his cock. He backs up just a bit and brings his hand back to his clothed hard-on, squeezing at the head a little. Zuko can actually  _ see _ precum oozing through the fabric, and Zuko rolls onto his back with a moan.

The spot on Zuko's boxers where the head of his dick was pressed against while he humped his mattress is  _ soaked _ . He shoves his free hand into them with haste, uninterested in teasing or going slow.

The leggings on the screen are  _ obscene.  _ He's still stroking through them, drops of precum sliding down the outline of his erection, leaving dark trails that almost disappear at the caress of his hand. Zuko strokes up and palms the wet head of his cock, smoothing down over his length. He tries to slow down, wanting to at least get to the good part of the video.

"I gotta, uhn, gotta take these off," his deep voice sounds breathy. He hooks both thumbs in the waistband of his leggings and pulls them off completely. MeatbenderMaster wasn't wearing any underwear. His cock is the same soft brown tone as the rest of him, the head darker and more red than the rest. He is also  _ thick _ . The man's cock isn't particularly long or short, but the girth of him makes Zuko's mouth water.

MeatbendingMaster,  _ fuck he is though, _ gets a proper grip on himself and begins to stroke in earnest, letting out a deep groan. Zuko shimmies out of his boxers; his own hand speeding up on his cock. "Yeah, just like that. You're so good,  _ so _ good,  _ fuck _ you feel so good," the man on the screen babbles, making Zuko's cock jump in his fist. "you wanna make me cum, baby?"

"Yeah, yeah, yes, please," Zuko rasps back at the screen. His dick is dribbling precum steadily, hand flying over it. It is wet, and loud, and  _ fuck _ if Zuko doesn't love it.

On the screen, the man is thrusting into his own fist. It's fast and erratic, the head of his cock now a deep red. "Fuck, baby please, gonna-" and lets out a sharp, high yelp and stills his hips, cum shooting out of his cock and all over his fingers. He strokes slowly, another burst of cum sliding down his fingers, breathing loud. 

Zuko's mouth is open and he's panting. He is  _ so close _ , just a little bit more and-

"You're  _ so _ good, made me cum so hard," the man on the screen mumbles, a smile in his voice again, "so good." And Zuko loses it. He cums with a strangled shout, sparks bursting from his parted lips. Cum splatters up onto his chest and stomach, a little even hitting him on the chin. The man on the screen squeezes again and his hips twitch, oversensitive. He hums contentedly.

The video ends, frozen on the image of the man's cock, one last small drop of cum gathered at the tip. 

Zuko flops back, drops his phone onto his chest and closes his eyes, breathing heavily. He is red from his cheeks all the way down his chest. He's almost asleep when his phone buzzes on his chest, only to discover that in his post-orgasm haze he has dropped it right into his own cum.

"Ugh, fuuck," he growls, dropping his head back onto his pillow. He lets out a deep sigh, and drags himself out of his bed. He walks to the only room with actual walls in the apartment, the bathroom. Zuko manages to wipe  _ most _ of his cum off of his phone, but resolves to clean it properly later. Right now he just desperately needs a hot shower.

Too lazy to deal with finding and then actually hanging his shower curtain, Zuko just turns on the spray. He washes himself as carefully as he can, trying at least to not get water  _ every _ where. It is not a complete success. Zuko avoids eye contact with his reflection in the mirror across from the shower at the sink until it fogs over. Showering without anything between him and the world feels incredibly weird, and he finishes up quickly.

His phone buzzes again and he unlocks it, blushing again at the image of the water tribe man's cock still up on his screen. Zuko taps out a quick comment, probably a little  _ too  _ honest, but this is a porn site- who even cares what he says. He dismisses the notification and almost closes the page when he sees the  **_Become a Cam Model!!_ ** banner just below the video.

Zuko's finger hovers over the x. Can he do it? Zuko has never even filmed himself jerking off, let alone posted it for the entire internet to see. He squints at the banner for another moment, and taps it.  _ Can't hurt to at least make an account. I can always just delete it if I want to. _ He takes a deep breath, grounding himself and the fire inside him. Zuko exhales slowly. He can do this. 

* * *

Sokka just wants to go  _ home _ already.

His shift at Boomerang Coffee still has 46 minutes left, and he is Done with the whole place. Customers have been inconsiderate, he spilled a strawberry frappe  _ all _ over his pants, and the manager, Yuzon, had blamed him for all the bullshit that the last shift had left. Sokka is  _ not _ having a good day.

Thankfully he works the opening shift, so he at least has a lot of day left to be had. Too bad he's also stained, sticky, and bone fucking tired.

He looks at the clock again. 12:17. Just 43 more minutes to go.

By the end of his shift, customers are far and few in-between. The coffee shop closes at 6, but is usually dead between 1 and 4. Boomerang Coffee isn't what one would call a  _ lunch spot _ . On the corner of a busy street in Ōchaba City the shop may be, but they just don't have the staff to flesh out a full lunch menu. As it is, they're short handed. The only good things about the job, according to Sokka, are the free drinks and his coworkers. 

Technically, if you ask Sokka, his sister Katara isn't  _ really _ in charge of him. She is a key holder and likes to lord it over him, but that also means that they work opening shifts together almost every day. Sokka doesn't mind, and he doesn't want the extra responsibility for the place that came with the title anyways. 

"Sokka, can you clean the countertops again? They look a little pink still," Katara requests. She is bent over a counter with a laminated sheet of paper on it. She goes down the line with her blue marker; she checks off the things that she's finished, and writes initials next to the ones she needs the boys to do. Yuzon is, as usual by this hour, nowhere to be seen.

"Right away, oh great Katara," Sokka mutters to himself, grabbing a clean rag and dunking it in warm, soapy water. He takes his frustration out on the counter, scrubbing it past clean, and well into Wasting Time to Look Busy.  _ Only 27 minutes left. 27, you can power through 27 minutes, Sokka. _

The bell above the door rings out, and Sokka greets the customer coming in without looking up from his scrubbing. "Hey, welcome to Boomerang Coffee, you'll always wanna come back," he recites dully.

"Oh, hello," the customer replies, walking up to stand a few feet away from the counter.

Sokka looks up to ask him what he can get him, but his brain fizzles. This customer is  _ hot.  _ He is tall, but just a bit shorter than Sokka. His eyes are on the menu board, squinting to read the small text.  _ Yeesh, that's one hell of a scar. Poor guy, musta hurt.  _ He realizes he's staring and looks down to the cups and clears his throat.

"Sooo, what can I get for ya?" Sokka asks with his patented customer service voice, pulling his marker out of his apron pocket. The other man looks at Sokka, a funny look playing across his face for a moment, like he's trying to puzzle something out.  _ Probably his coffee order, what else could it be? _

"Hm? Oh, can I get a, um, an iced coffee? With 2 creams, 3 sugars?" The customer asks politely.

"Sure thing, what size?"

"Oh, um medium. Thanks."

"What's your name?" Sokka asks, marker poised above the cup. He smiles at him.

"Zuko," he replies. Zuko smiles back at him, a little shyly. 

"Alrighty Zuko, didja need anything else?" Sokka asks, making eye contact. Zuko's eyes are a gorgeous shade of golden brown. Kind of like caramel, but just a little more gold. They're beautiful.

"Oh, yeah can I also have a cinnamon raisin bagel with butter?"

"Uh huh!" Sokka finishes writing the shorthand for his order on his cup and nods, walking away to make the drink. "It'll be just a minute."

_ Holy  _ **_shit_ ** _ is that guy hot.  _ Sokka shakes his head like an Etch-a-Sketch and gets to work.  _ C'mon Sokka, no Actual flirting with customers.  _ Sokka is a known flirt at the coffee shop, but he does it playfully, to get tips. He is very good at it,  _ especially _ among the older ladies, much to Katara's amusement.

* * *

Zuko fiddles with the ties of his hoodie, wishing he had actually cleaned his phone. _ l can't pull it out here, it's still… gross. _ Zuko is forced instead to look around the coffee shop, or better yet, at the barista confidently making his drink. The man- Sokka, his name tag said- wears a blue and gold trimmed apron over dark clothes. Zuko catches himself staring at Sokka's arms, and shakes his head again.  _ Don't be a creep, he probably doesn't even like guys. _ Sokka looks up at him, eyes a gorgeous shade of dark, twinkling brown, and winks.

"Want anything else?" Sokka implored playfully, and  _ is that flirting? Is he flirting with me right now?? _

"No!" He says, much sharper than intended.  _ Fuck.  _ Quieter, "No, I'm uh, I'm fine."  _ Stars, why is his voice so familiar… have we met before? _

Sokka is unphased. He shrugs. "No problem man, here's your coffee." 

Zuko takes it from Sokka's outstretched hands, their fingers brushing. He gulps and nods. "Th-thanks."

"Oh, right your bagel, just a sec," Sokka says, turning around to prepare Zuko's breakfast. Sokka quickly wraps it in foil and hands it over. "Okay, your total will be $5.25."

Zuko forks over the cash, and their fingers touch again. He chances a glance up and meets Sokka's eyes, but looks back down at his coffee. Zuko is pretty sure that he's blushing. "Thanks, you can keep the change."

"Hey, thanks! And don't forget to come back!" Sokka says, with considerably more enthusiasm than when he had greeted Zuko. 

Zuko nods again, a small smile playing at his lips. _So what if his voice is familiar._ _I've met other people from the Water Tribes. That's probably it._ He turns to leave and does not turn around, tempted as he may be.

* * *

  
  


"Home!" Sokka calls into the apartment he shares with Aang.

"Bedroom!"

Sokka drops his apron and keys on the couch on his way to Aang's door. Their apartment is small, but not tiny. A decent 2 bedroom, 1 bath situation. The living room and kitchen were just one big room but who  _ doesn't _ want to sit on the couch while they wait for water to boil?

Sokka stops on the threshold to Aang's room, and leans against the door frame. Aang is playing a handheld game laying face up upside-down on his bed, legs and feet against the wall.

"Just a sec gotta- yes!" Triumphant music plays from the small speakers, and Aang does a little upside-down victory dance, and clicks the game closed. He looks up at Sokka. "What's up buddy? And why do you smell so… fruity?"

Sokka groans and explains the horrors of his day. His strawberry pants, the asshole who made him remake his drink  _ three _ times, -"it wasn't blue enough, of all fucking things!"-, and fucking Yuzon and his usual bullshit. Aang is used to Sokka's occasional post work tirades. They never last long and Sokka always feels better after.

"Sorry for unloading on you, Aang."

Aang rolls over to lay on his stomach, head turned to the side to face Sokka. He waves a hand. "Nah, it's all good. Did anything good happen though?"

Sokka grins. "There was this  _ reall _ y hot guy," he begins, coming into Aang's room properly, sitting in his desk chair.

"Oh?" Aang sits up on his elbows, chin in his hand.

"Yeah, so he was super hot right? Huge burn on his face, but like, that's distinctive, ya know? Like, if I see this guy again in town I'll  _ know  _ it's him. Like, for sure." 

"You wanna see him in town? Ooh, Sokka!" Aang teases. "What happened to No Actual Flirting With Customers, huh?"

"Look, I only made that rule so I wouldn't have to watch my  _ baby sister _ flirt with  _ you _ , ugh." Sokka grimaces.

"Well your plan didn't work, because I just text-flirt at her!" Aang snorts a laugh. "So ha!"

"Ack, no Spirits, do  _ not _ tell me about your Textular Flirting with my sister, no thank you,  _ yuck _ ." Sokka stands and walks to their kitchen.

"And even if I did want to see him again," Sokka calls over his shoulder, "it's usually only a matter of time before they come back to Boomerang anyways."

"Too true!" Aang chirps from his bed, upside-down with his game again.

Aang and Sokka had been best friends for years now. They understand each other, and have a mutual respect for one another. Their bond is the unshakable bond of brotherhood, forged from growing up together in their formative years. Technically, Katara was the one who reduced the poor kid from the ice, but Sokka was the one who flew them all to the hospital after on the kid's mind bending flying bison. Abandoned by whomever was supposed to be caring for the boy, Aang found himself at home with Katara and Sokka's family at the South Pole.

Sokka grabs a snack on the way to his bedroom, crunching into the flesh of a bright red appleberry. Its sweet, clear juices slip from the sides of his mouth and down his throat.

Sokka strips as he makes his way to his bedroom. If there's one common rule in all the years Aang and Sokka have lived together, it's that pants are extremely optional.  _ It's a bro zone, and it's gonna be comfy. Plus, my pants are fucking filthy. Oorgh is that crust? Nasty! _ He holds his disgusting black pants by thumb and forefinger, depositing them into his overflowing laundry pile. He wipes his dripping face with his shirt, and drops that in the pile too.

He doesn't even bother telling himself he'll do them soon. It's a lie, it's always a lie.

Once securely in his room by himself, Sokka cracks open the lid to his laptop to check the views and comments on his latest video. He can only film them -can  _ only _ bring himself to film them- when Aang is out of the house, preferably overnight. Even if that means he's spending the night with Katara,  _ eugh _ , it means he can film uninterrupted, and uninhibited.

For now, he can check the notes, and respond to comments. Honestly, most of them make him blush a little, but it's a nice ego boost.

(Comment from user  **Pao.jackoff92778** )

> :0! Holy shit, your hot

(Comment from user  **Guest36592** )

> If I was there you wouldnt have to cum all over the place 😛💦

(Comment from user  **CaptainJollyRoger** )

> Sweet spirits above, his DICK tho 

(Comment from user  **cbt4lyf** )

> Make one with your pants on the whole time 

(Comment from user  **BlueMagic** )

> Hello, did you just give me a praise kink?? I'm sweating

(Comment from user  **Guest477992** )

> made me so cum hard baby boi wish I culd do that to u

(Comment from user  **Richard.Puller27** )

>what that ass do tho

(Comment from user  **SexualBending** )

> Lemme see that face beautiful 😍😍😍😍

(Comment from user  **SooksInBoots** )

>well fuck, and to think I was considering lesbianism again not 30 minutes before watching this 👀👀

(Reply to Comment from user  **SooksInBoots** )

>this still makes me bi as Fuck but like 💯💯💯💯💯💯wow

  
  


For the most part, Sokka doesn't actually reply. They don't need his encouragement to be Like That, and he has better things to do most of the time. A couple here and there that stick out to him, or are from users who have commented on a lot of his things sometimes get replies. He hits the like button on the one comment actually making a reasonable request, and writes it in his little blue notebook.  _ For later _ , he smiles.


	2. Lucky Number 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka makes some poor choices, Zuko unpacks his place.
> 
> They both have a gooood time~ (ﾉ✧ಎ✧)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo it's me, I'm Back  
> Sorry it takes me so long for each chapter, but life is exhausting.
> 
> I know. I know! They'll start... recognizing... one another soon. I promise.
> 
> Hope you like it! :>
> 
> Special thanks to igotfiregirl for the Skyrim stuff <3

"Crabsolutely not, Aang."

“C’mon, Sokka! Just _one_ little party. It’ll be lowkey!” Aang pleads with him, eyes sparkling and lower lip trembling.

“When you say little, what do you _actually_ mean? Because the _last_ time you told me your party would be _low key,_ ” Sokka air quotes, “I ended up somehow finding _more_ pots in our cupboard than we had when the party started.”

“And that’s a bad thing?"

"They don’t fit anywhere!"

Aang rolls his eyes. “Still not a real problem, Sokka.”

"The party before _that_ someone invited the entire cast of _The Tempest_ , all still in stage makeup." Sokka cups Aang's cheeks, and squishes a little. "There was makeup on _every_ surface, Aang." 

Aang twists out of Sokka's reach, fixing his hoodie. "Sokka, you’re thinking too hard about it. It’ll just be a liiiittle costume party. Like, ten people probably.” He waves a hand at the number.

Sokka squints at him. He doesn’t believe Aang for a second. “Uh huh, and are they gonna help clean up after this time?”

Aang rolls his eyes. “Sokka, it’ll be _fine._ And I promise, promise, _promise_ that I’ll help clean up in the morning.”

Sokka stares him in the eyes, finally cracking under his unrelenting sealpuppy gaze.

“Aargh, okay _fine,”_ Sokka concedes. Aang leaps off his chair and punches the air with a _whoop!_ Sokka doesn't actually mind parties, but sometimes someone just needs to give Aang a hard time. “But!" Sokka amends, pointer finger in the air, "You’re getting me stone-fruit cider! _And_ you had better drink water in between, I’m not helping you if you barf this time, man.”

“You got it, Sokka!” Aang chirps, texting rapidly. Sokka sighs, lowkey for Aang usually still meant at least twenty people, even when- **_especially_** _when-_ he said there would only be ten. Kind of a lot for their apartment. They live together on the top floor apartment in a small building, on the north west side of Ōchaba City. Most of the apartments in this part of the city are old restored houses, abandoned during the war. Definitely a little haunted. Not that Sokka would _admit_ to that, but he’s pretty sure he knows what he saw.

They’ve lived in the apartment building together for a few years, though this isn't their first place. Sokka's family took Aang in after the accident with the ice. No one could find any parents, and he refused to explain what he had been doing so close to the South Pole. To this day, he's never said a word about it. Aang and Sokka haven’t lived apart in seven years. They know exactly how to push each other’s buttons, and how to keep the peace. Experts on one another, they both know almost everything about each other. Almost.

Aang’s phone pings in his hands. His smile grows huge and his cheeks glow a little pink. Sokka makes a face, _Gross, he’s talking to Katara. Cute but, gah, its my_ **_sister_ ** _._ “We'll plan the party later, Sokka. Katara and I are gonna go ride giant Guinea-Pighogs on Whale Tail Island!"

“Okay but be careful, those guys can have some pretty big teeth.”

“Don’t worry, Katara’s bringing _lots_ of vegetables,” he laughs, gathering his things and making his way to the door, “see ya!”

“Don’t get eaten!” Sokka calls, flopping back onto the love seat when Aang closes the door. He doesn't lock it.

Sokka can hear Aang call through the door. “They’re vegetarians!”

"They're not the only things out there, though, so I'm still right." Sokka says to an empty apartment.

Still looking at the door, he pats his legs and gets off the couch. "Just you and me today, Momo!"

Momo lifts his head at his name, and chitters at him from where he's laying on the top of their shitty, purple, pull-out loveseat. 

"You're right, Momo!" Sokka replies, nodding, "boxers _are_ no longer required!"

Sokka strips to just his sweater and laughs when Momo squawks at him. He balls them up and tosses it into an armchair a few feet away. "Ha! Nice," he says to the room. His hair is falling out of his wolftail, so he just tugs at the tie until it flops into his face. Sokka scritches at his scalp, and tucks the long ends behind his ears. He plops back on the couch, headless of his naked ass. Sokka digs his hand into the far left corner of the loveseat, feeling around under the springs of the mattress until-

“Yes, it’s still here!” Sokka pulls out a squashed green plastic thing, with duct tape wrapped around the center. There's smudged letters written over the tape, and a little on the plastic: GWECS. Sokka shakes it gently at Momo. “It’s daddy’s chill zone stuff, and I know you’re gonna fly away as soon as I open this, but I love you.”

Momo wraps his tail around Sokka’s wrist for a moment, as if daring him to continue. Sokka starts ripping off the duct tape, unrolling it sloppily.

“This is the life, huh Momo? No restrictions, balls out, hair down, just Sokka being Sokka.”

Momo looks at him with his huge green eyes. He tilts his head and chirrups.

“You’re right Momo, you really _have_ been naked this whole time.” Momo squawks at him. “That’s okay, bud! Lemurs don’t need clothes."

Momo tugs at the sleeve of Sokka's sweater twice. "You want a nice little sweater vest for when we go back home to visit dad?" And Sokka suddenly _does_ have a lemur in a sweater because Momo dives into his, tickling his stomach with his tiny feet. 

“Gah! Momo, get out of there!” Sokka jumps off of the love seat and stands, which only makes Momo climb higher, a great big lump of crazed lemur on Sokka’s chest. “Fuck! Fine!!” Sokka pulls off the sweater, and Momo jumps off of him,gliding away into Aang’s open bedroom. Sokka stands there, nude from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. He picks up his sweater and drops heavily onto the purple cushions. The folded mattress under him squeaks in protest.

The thing he’d been unrolling the duct tape off of was on the floor a few in front of him, and he sighs, standing back up to grab it. He finishes the job, balling up the tape and tossing it onto the chair with his boxers in it across the room. Sokka doesn’t cheer this time, too focused on what's inside the weird green package.

“A little squashed, but definitely still smokable, _nice._ ” He says as he inspects a joint from one side of the container. "Thanks Gwecs." He digs around again in the cushions, and pulls out a battered looking sploof, and keeps digging for a lighter. He feels a lot of other little things in his hiding spot, but no lighters. Though naked, Sokka pats himself down, hunting for the lighter that’s constantly on him.

No dice _._

_Duh, naked. Oh, me._ He laughs at himself a little. _There’s gotta be a lighter in this apartment somewhere, where where where where…_ Sokka thinks, eyeballing the room for likely spots. His eyes light up. He shoots from the loveseat and into Aang’s room. The guy wasn’t a big smoker, but he _was_ a fan of incense, so it was only logical that he’d- _oh shit, a note_.

_"Sokka- I know you're stealing my lighters, cut it out & give them back _

_Maybe I'll share if you do :) -Aang"_

Note in hand, he stands there, nude, in Aang's room. _That's… fair._ He sighs in resignation. Sokka ducks into his own room to find a lighter. He digs around in his desk, beside his bed, pretty much anywhere he _should_ have a lighter, but comes up empty handed. _Wait!_ A light flicks on in Sokka's head, and he scans around his room wildly, looking for his disgusting pants from the other day at the café.

"Ah _ha_!" Sokka pulls the pink and green lighter, just a little sticky, from the pocket. He walks back to the living room, idly flicking the lighter to life repeatedly. Sokka thinks for a long second about filming his smoke sesh for his MeatbendingMaster channel, but decides against it.

“Nah, it’s Sokka’s Chill Zone time, babey!” He declares to the empty room, turning back to plop back down on the loveseat. He’s got the joint in his mouth, lighter in hand, when the front door crashes back open.

“Hey buddy, I forgot my - _oh holy shit, no,_ I’m so sorry, oh no, no, my _eyes_ Sokka!!” Aang blurts, covering his deeply red face with his forearm. He reaches behind him blindly and closes the front door.

Sokka yelps and grabs for the closest thing he can find to cover himself with, his sweater, and he can feel his whole face heating in embarrassment. His joint is still lit, hanging out of the corner of his mouth. “Aang! It’s okay, it's okay I'm covered, it's fine!"

Aang stands frozen in the kitchen, not daring to uncover his eyes. “Uh, are you _sure_ I can open my eyes?” 

“Yeah, Aang, why wouldn’t-?” Sokka clams up, then yells: “It wasn’t what it looked like!”

Aang laughs behind his arm, “Sure it wasn’t buddy!”

“I’m sorry I was smoking without you, but I _swear_ to Tui and La that I wasn’t jerking off in the living room. Just havin’ chill Sokka time, okay?”

Aang lowers his arm, but his eyes are still closed. He cracks one eye open to peek, and Sokka shrugs and waves at him. He takes a hit without really thinking about it, turning his head and blowing through the sploof towards the window.

Aang finally opens his eyes fully and looks Sokka up and down. Judging him to be truthful, Aang relaxes. “C’mon Aang, I wouldn’t do that. Common spaces don’t get to have uncommon activities.”

“Okay, okay but is your _bare ass_ a common, uh, activity? Occurrence?”

Sokka blushes. “Well, I mean. I can put my underwear back on if you want? If that would help?"

“Eurgh, no, it’s fine, I’m just here to grab my sleeping mat, you can do whatever weird thing you were doing when I leave.” He goes into his room to grab it. Once inside, he calls back to Sokka, “And like, maybe do the really weird, fully naked stuff on your own bed? Instead of the guest bed?”

Sokka snorts at that. He’s seated on what’s probably the _worst_ pullout bed in the world. It’s creaky, the mattress has a persistent scent of a strange mix of spices, and it’s _small._ It’s what would fit into their teeny apartment, and they _did_ have occasional guests. But it’s not what Sokka would deem a Guest Bed. But he concedes to Aang’s request.

"Yeah, yeah, fine, I’ll go now.”

“Nope! You can wait until I’m gone! Don’t wanna see your dick today again, bro.” Aang asserts.

Sokka rolls his eyes. “Whatever man. Wanna hit?

A pause in the sounds of him shuffling things around in his room. Aang reappears in his doorway, eyes glimmering. “Whatcha got?”

Sokka eyes the joint, inspecting the cherry, the paper, it’s level of pinched squishiness. Takes a hit. “Flameo OG, I think,” he says, smoke curling from his lips, holding it out for Aang to come take. Aang takes several short, shallow hits off the joint, drawing them deep into his lungs with a nifty Airbending trick. When he exhales, there is no discernible smoke.

"Y’know, I somehow always forget you can do that.”

Aang giggles and pats his legs, already pretty stoned from the way he hit the joint. “Yup! Airbending mastery used for a noble purpose: gettin' _real_ fucked up! Real fast too, wow, holy shit Sokka!”

Sokka laughs at him, doubling over in his seat. “Spirits, you’re already gone, I hope Katara’s steering Appa tonight, buddy.”

Aang waves a hand at him, eyes closed. “Psh, of course she’s in charge. Plus, we usually just sit together up front when it’s just us.” He gets a lost, spaced out look on his face at the thought. He smiles softly at the ceiling.

Sokka sticks his tongue out at him. “Yuck, I’m texting Katara to come get you.”

(7:48pm) _Me:_

**_>_ ** **come get ur bf**

(7:48pm) _Katara:_

**> What? Why? He was supposed to come right back down.**

He laughs at that, Aang is extremely distractible. _Shoulda come with if you wanted him to stay on task._ As it was, Aang is back in his bedroom, having a conversation with Momo.

(7:49pm) _Katara:_

**>???**

(7:50pm) _Me:_

**> i distracted him with a pretty little flower 😇**

(7:50pm) _Katara:_

**> Damnit Sokka**

(7:51pm) _Katara_ :

**> I’ll be right up.**

Sokka snorts, and stands with a shiver. He tugs the sweater he was using to cover his junk over his head. Sokka stretches his arms high, honestly forgetting how much of a balls-out look he's sporting.

“Sokka, did you- AGH fuck, Sokka! I literally _just_ told you I didn’t wanna see your dick!”

“Oh, shit, sorry Aang!” Face reddening,again, Sokka pulls the front of the sweater down and flees to his bedroom. “Katara will be right up, sorry about my dick!”

Sokka can hear Aang groan in the living room, muttering something to himself. He shuts his door. _Whoops, Sokka. That was rude._ He thinks for a couple seconds. _I’ll bake him something as an apology, like a… “sorry about my dick again” cake. Maybe some cookies on the side._

Sokka lays down on his bed staring at his ceiling. He takes another hit, and looks around for his sploof. Lungs burning, he remembers. _Fuck, it’s in the living room._ Sokka slides the window by his head open just a crack instead, and blows the smoke out, coughing hard at the end. Not his ideal smoking setup, but it’ll do. Sokka coughs again, as he contemplates baked goods. _I think I will make them the cake. Like, it's a win-win. And we all get cake, yes, I'm doing it._ Sokka smokes the joint down to the filter by the window. It takes Katara longer than he expects to come and fetch Aang, but she’s hard to miss when she _does_ barge into the place.

“Sokka! You’re gonna pay for making him like this before we fly!”

“Yeah, yeah- You’ll get cake too.” He calls through his closed door.

He hears her ask Aang what Sokka meant by _cake_ , but if Aang had any ideas about it, Sokka couldn’t hear them. He hears the apartment door close, and hears the _thunk_ of the deadbolt turning.

(8:02pm) _Aang:_

**> Locked it, have fun buddy**

(8:02pm) _Me:_

**> I swear I wasn’t doing that.**

(8:03pm) _Me:_

**> But thx ✌️✌️**

(8:03pm) _Aang:_

**> suuuuuure 👀👀👀😂😂✌️**

Sokka rolls his eyes, taking one last hit to kill the joint. He leaves the roach on the window sill, letting out one last cloud of smoke. When it came down to it, Aang was really only wrong about what Sokka was doing because of his timing. Sokka hadn’t _planned_ on jerking off in the living room, but if that’s where the evening took him, he wasn’t gonna say no. But, he already felt bad about the whole thing, and he _was_ already in bed. No need to break his promise. 

Sokka tosses his sweater in the direction of his desk chair. His room is definitely messy, but it's mostly clothes of varying levels of cleanliness draped across his furniture. His maps and charts have their own safe spot in the corner, and so do his weapons. Everything else is a mess in some way or another. At home in his organized chaos, Sokka relaxes into his bed.

The thought is already in his head, brain (and dick) practically chanting _jerk off jerk off jerk off_ at him. He caves quickly, never really fighting the thought in the first place. Sokka is _so_ high, and he just wants to cum. Completely naked, Sokka smoothes a hand up his right thigh, running a dry finger over his burgeoning erection. Without a single thought in his head, Sokka rolls out of bed and walks into the kitchen, immediately opening the door to the icebox.

He pauses, cold air hitting him and making him shiver.

"Wait." He says aloud, thinking. _Why am I in here?_ Sokka reaches a hand out towards a container of leftovers, and he remembers. " _Oh_ , the lube."

He shuts the door and goes back to the love seat, digging around in his corner of the couch again. He had recently run out, but knew that there was a tiny tube of it in the loveseat. _For, like, date emergencies._ He justifies to himself. He grabs a glass of water on his way back in his room, _I'm out here anyways, fuck._

Back in bed, though he never actually intended to leave it, Sokka pulls up his porn site profile on instinct, habitually looking at his comments first. It's all the usual, mostly vapid horny comments. A couple suggestions here and there that he adds to his little list, and many more that he ignores. He's already done some of the things they request, but he's done with redirecting the masses. Either they find his other videos, or they don't. It's not hard.

Sokka puts in a few search terms, and scrolls the page on his phone. He opens a couple in new tabs for later, but stops to watch the thumbnail of a particular one that catches his eye. A pale man sits on the edge of a bed, rainbow flag in the background on a dark brick wall. He’s wearing dark grey sleep shorts, and nothing else. It’s shot from the base of his throat to the tops of his thighs. The thumbnail gif moves, but the man in it doesn’t. At least, not very much. The biggest change is the redness that spreads down the man’s throat and chest. Sokka looks at the details of the video. _Oh, it’s new. Hmm, BlueMagic, sounds familiar. It has, what, 6 views? Guess I’m lucky number 7 then,_ he thinks while tapping on the thumbnail.

* * *

Zuko is incredibly nervous. It’s not that unusual for him these days, but in this instance it’s at least an appropriate reaction.

For the first, and probably not the last, Zuko is going to film himself masturbating. He flushes at the thought of it, and then feels his cheeks grow even more warm when he realizes that everyone will _see_ how much he’s blushing. He shakes his head. Time to go in and do this.

Zuko sits on the edge of his bed, making sure he’s in the right position so that his face doesn’t show. The long mirror behind the camera on his wall helps him keep track of where he is in frame - the rear facing camera on his phone is just better. Pressing the record button, Zuko lets out a sigh, steadying himself. Then he begins.

* * *

Sokka is rapt. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of the slowly undulating man since the video started, watching intently. Sokka double checks the username; _BlueMagic, huh. Again, still a little familiar, but not ringing any bells._

BlueMagic starts off a little shy, rosy blush creeping down his throat. He rubs his inner thighs firmly, massaging his own legs open. Sokka hears him let out a little _“Mmf”_ as he spreads his legs further. He can see the outline of his cock, dressed to the right in his soft looking shorts. Unlike the rest of the lithe man on his screen, BlueMagic’s dick is squat. Not truly short, probably just a little below average, but _thick_ . 

_He's smaller than some of my exes but- wait, no._ **_Gotta_** _get out of my own head. Focus on how fat the cock is, Sokka, not the national averages._ Sokka shakes his head and refocuses.

The man on screen drags his nails up his thighs, leaving pink lines in their wake. BlueMagic runs his fingers up his chest to rub circles around his nipples. Sokka mirrors him, his small, brown nipples pebbling in response.

* * *

Zuko has his head back and his eyes shut. He's trying not to think about the camera. Slowly, he moves his hand to rest on his erection. An involuntary whimper comes out of his mouth, and he feels his blush grow warmer. It’s been barely 5 minutes and he's already feeling a little desperate. Zuko bites his lip to keep some of the sounds in. It’s a fruitless effort- he moans at the sweet friction of his hand over his clothed cock.

Zuko tilts his hips forwards, and the head of his cock peeks out from under his hand. He huffs a breath. Removing his hand from his groin completely, Zuko whines quietly. "Please, _please_ touch me," he drops his fingertips back to the top of his cock, just barely brushing over the soft material of his sleep shorts, "ungh, fuck, let me come, _please."_ Zuko murmurs softly, forgetting for a moment that his phone might have a hard time picking up his voice if it’s so soft.

He drums his fingertips lightly against his covered erection, and his hips jump. Zuko can feel his flush spreading lower, _knows_ that his chest is turning red for the camera. He catches his own eye in the mirror and a whine slips through his lips, high and wavering. _Well, if I'm gonna turn appleberry red anyways-_

_"Fuck_ , you're making me so horny," he intones, voice rough, eyes on himself, "I'm so red, aren't I?" He drags a fingertip down the length of his chest, leaving a quickly fading white line in his wake. Zuko toys with his left nipple a little, and his cock jumps in his shorts, straining against the grey fabric. 

"Wanna be good for you, wanna cum, _please."_ He rasps. Zuko rolls his hips forwards, the friction of his shorts pulling against his cock just shy of satisfying. It smears the wetness at the tip though, a dark splotch appearing on the fabric for everyone to see. He whines at the sight of it, eyes flitting between the spot on his crotch and his own eyes in the mirror. He looks wrecked.

Zuko keeps rolling his hips, undulating on the edge of his bed. It’s so good, and almost enough. His body tenses on each curl. Zuko bites his lip. He watches his cock jump in the mirror and wishes with a _pang_ that he wasn’t alone. Zuko picks up the pace. Adjusts his leaking cock, he gives it a quick rub before pulling the legs of his shorts down a little. The fabric is tight to his body, and he can’t help it, he’s increasing the friction just a bit with a rasping whine. He pushes his hips up into it, again and again.

“Please, _baby_ , please I want to cum. Wanna cum in your mouth,” his breath hitches, “wanna cum on your cock, wanna-- _fuck!”_

And suddenly he _is_ cumming, way sooner than he meant to, right through his shorts without a touch. “Hhaah, oh Spirits, ungh-” he cuts off with a gasp, his entire body shuddering. Cum slides down his thigh and onto the floor, and he trembles with each aftershock.

* * *

Sokka flops onto his back, panting. His heart pounds in his chest, slowing a little, but picks up again when he starts thinking about the things BlueMagic said in the video. A cold breeze blows through his cracked window and over his body. Instead of closing it, Sokka stands, completely nude and converted in drying cum, and walks out into the living room.

_The door's locked, who's even gonna see_ ? He does glance around at the windows to make sure their shades are drawn too, but walks confidently to where he left the Genius Weed Containment System. He calls it GWECS to himself; Sokka's _pretty_ sure he's never called it that in front of Aang. _I'm recycling cuz I get to use the bottles for longer; I'm hiding my weed in a way my landlord can't smell it; it's a pretty color. Hm. Might still be high._ He walks to the bathroom, still thinking about how useful GWECS is.

Sokka stares at himself in the mirror. He looks fine. His eyes aren't too baggy, he's not bloated. Still staring at himself, he absently grabs a towel and wets it. Cum isn't hard to wash off a body, and the warmth of the water feels nice against his skin. He itches his scalp a little, his hair sweaty and tangled. _Wanna shower. But … I can still make a video tonight and I can shower after that. Yeah, let's make a video._ Inspired _,_ Sokka goes back into his room to grab his camera and mini ring light. He stands in the center of his room, tapping his forefinger on his chin in thought. _What kind of video is this? Hmm, what feels right… mm, let's at least look at the requests._ Sokka sets up the camera to point at his bed, as usual, and turns on the light. He flops onto the bed.

Requests are kept in a note on Sokka's phone. He started making a list a while ago, the completed requests have an emoji in them. He skims the list looking for something that sounds fun. _Hmm, oh that one's pretty simple. Thanks SooksnBoots, you're right. That does sound nice._

It’s a little too chilly to be completely naked in his apartment, so he pulls the sweater back over his head. Sokka lights another joint from GWECS and takes a long drag, and holds it. BlueMagic is _hot._ Like, _really_ hot. _The sounds he made_ , _holy_ **_shit_ ** _! Fuck, that was good. Wonder what he'd sound like with someone else. What kinda noises could I wrench from the guy?_

Sokka shivers a little, then shakes himself out of the fantasy. He's on his way to half hard again, so he takes one more hit off his joint and gently puts it out on his window sill, grabbing the one from earlier too. He has a little stone pot on his bedside table, the lid a perfect fit. Sokka lifts the lid, and drops the roaches in with a handful of others. The smell is _powerful,_ his hands jerk to put the lid back on before his whole room ends up smelling like roach weed.

Sokka sits back down and pulls the sweater up just enough to uncover his cock. He watches it as it thickens, and softly drags his fingers over it, holding himself in a loose fist. It twitches in his palm. Sokka pushes into his fingers a little, enjoying the motion of thrusting as much as the feeling on his hand on himself. He loves the movements of sex, not just the feeling on his dick.

He's glad he took the edge off, because just thinking about the things BlueMagic fucking whimpered, face just out of sight, is making him want to jerk off again, hard and fast. Sokka knows he's speeding up, but keeps doing what he's doing. _I haven't started filming yet, what do I care._

* * *

Zuko bites his lips anxiously. They're already sore and raw from how much he bit them while filming, but once he's started he really can't stop. It's a bad habit Zuko isn't really even aware of until there's blood in his mouth.

The video already has seven views. _Sure, it's been, like, an hour, but that's seven whole people who have seen me_ **_like that_ ** _now._ He flushes, even though he's alone in his apartment. _Plus,_ he justifies to himself _, it's not like I_ **_know_ ** _anyone who watched it. Right? Right._

Zuko shakes his head to clear the thoughts. It's too quiet in his tiny apartment. _I know I need to unpack but…_ he digs around in his boxes, looking for anything to do other than unpack his damn things.

_Skyrim skyrim where's- oh shit, no._ He lets out a massive heaving sigh. Had Azula been there she would have had something to say about the drama of it all, but she wasn't. She did, however, still have the playstation and their copy of Skyrim. Zuko sighs again.

Zuko is unwilling to exist in an apartment with no ambient sound. He sits in one of his kitchen chairs and starts looking for something suitable on youtube.

Search for: " _skyrim playthrough_ "

He scrolls through the videos, hunched over his phone on the table. Zuko knows he needs glasses. He's well aware of his diminishing eyesight in his left eye. He knows he needs them, and continues to suffer through without.

He taps one and watches for a moment or two, and it's alright. But the man's voice is just a little distorted, and Zuko scrolls through the related videos.

_“Smoke with me, Skyrim!”_ catches his eye, the thumbnail of a skeleton shooting across a cave with drawn on smoke coming out of it’s eyes proving too tempting.

" _Hey everybody! Ya boy is back with another probably demonetized video, so ya know what that means_ ?" There's a pause, the unmistakable glug-glug-glug of a bong, and a long exhale. " _I'm getting high as_ **_fuck_ ** _this fine evening here in Skyrim_."

The man coughs away from his mic, and Zuko puts his phone down. He can work with this.

Zuko’s things are in boxes all over the tiny apartment, a safety hazard if there ever was one. It looks like a lot, but he knows for a fact it’s barely anything. The essentials, and art supplies- but they were still all over the place. As it was, he had already tripped over his duffel of clothes three times this morning. Time to put his shit away.

The man on his phone keeps talking - and smoking; a comforting source of entertainment for Zuko’s mind to focus on. No thoughts here, no sir. His voice is familiar but Zuko can’t quite place why. He doesn’t spend a lot of time thinking about it; _he’s just some random youtuber, whatever._ Zuko puts his phone down on his kitchen counter, and begins to unpack.

Slowly, methodically, Zuko opens the boxes and puts away his kitchen things, his bathroom necessities. He dumps his sheets on his bed, still unwilling to _make_ it. Setting up his very first apartment to be _just_ the way he wants it is far more soothing than he had imagined it would be. Everything has a place, no one can tell him he’s wrong. It’s all his.

He glances at his phone periodically, listening as he unpacks. The man’s character - a humanoid, he’s unsure of what sort- is crouched in a cave, moving slowly along to sneak up on enemies. His character suddenly stills completely.

The bong gurgles again, close to the mic, and then again further away. Someone coughs _hard_ , in the background, and Zuko hears a soft but strained _“I’m good, I’m good.”_ The player hits the bong again, and exhales a little too close to the mic.

“ _I'm not usually one to play a sneak thief, but listen, listen, no_ **_listen_ ** _, buddy, there’s a time and a place, ya know? This is that. Right now. In this cave.”_

Zuko snorts. Though he seldom _actually_ played the game when he had access, he usually opted to play as what the guy called a Sneak Thief. _Maybe someday I’ll actually be able to get my Sneak to 100. Watching’s fine though._ Zuko picks through a box of art supplies, squeezing tubes of acrylic paints just because they’re squeezable.

A second voice pipes up in the video. “ _No, you’re right, gotta be careful.”_

_“Exactly! Gotta- ooh, oooh!”_

Zuko looks back up at his phone at the squee of excitement from the player. Zuko is met with an impossible to read chest inventory from the chest the man has just discovered. He looks at the shining war hammer for a second, before deciding to take it.

_“Anything good? Why’d you take that one? Rare, expensive?”_ The second voice asks, questions rolling off of his tongue faster than the player can answer.

_“Nah, it’s the fact that it’s Dwarven.”_

_“Oh, okay.”_ A pause. _“Why though?”_

The player laughs, and Zuko’s stomach flips inexplicably. It’s a nice laugh, sincere, and so warm. It’s clear that he’s not going to make fun of his friend for not knowing what’s going on.

“ _Cuz it’s dwarven!”_ He laughs again. _“I can’t make ‘em right now, but I_ **_can_ ** _make this one better.”_

_“Oh, okay. Thanks!”_

_“No problem, buddy. It’s heavy, and I’m in a cave so that’s not… ideal… but it’s worth it.”_

Zuko keeps at it, sorting and putting away all of his art supplies, some of which he doesn’t remember even purchasing. It all has a home here, though. He doesn’t pay that much attention to the video as he sorts, concentration taken up by trying to get it all to fit on his Art Shelves without falling off or breaking. It takes him about twenty minutes, so he’s not that surprised that the video is nearly over.

Satisfied with his progress, he grabs his phone and sits down at the table with his little box labeled **Carefull!!** He slices the tape with his pocket knife and opens the box, pulling out his very own little glass bong, golden grinder, and a small baggie of weed. _Really gonna take this video literally, huh?_ He thinks as he packs a bowl. The player’s character is no longer in the cave, which does surprise Zuko. He really stopped paying attention for a while there.

_“So, I’m ‘kill on sight’ in_ **_two_ ** _places,”_ the player cackles, _“uh, one is Markarth which is_ **_so_ ** _upsetting, because I love Markarth.”_ The character runs over a small bridge into a small town, and Zuko can hear the player take another hit.

He breathes out and speaks at the same time, giving his voice a strained tone to it. “ _I love- I love the architecture, I love everything about it.”_

Zuko pulls a small flame from his fingertip, and takes his first hit.

“ _I don’t know how to make ‘em not kill me! It’s just- They don’t talk anymore! They just kill_ .” The player says, and Zuko can hear the sad frown in his voice. _Oh no, that’s the worst,_ Zuko thinks.

“ _Oh no! That’s the worst!_ ” The second voice says, mirroring Zuko’s thoughts.

“ _Yeah, so, I don’t know how to make ‘em_ **_not_ ** _do that, which sucks because I have a house there, filled with shit.”_

Zuko is shocked into laughter, bright and loud. The two men in the video laugh as well, cackling with mirth. He smiles at the video, wider and more sincerely than he has in a long while. Taking another hit, Zuko feels… free. Normally he might be embarrassed about watching a video of two guys just fucking around in Skyrim, but who was there to judge him for it? _Nobody, that’s who,_ and he takes a long hit off of his bong. Zuko is actually having a _good time_ watching this video. He can’t remember the last time he found someone so randomly that he actually enjoyed watching like this. Had he ever?

Zuko flips his phone to vertical and checks the username- BoomerangGang- and hits the subscribe button on a whim. Who knows, maybe this guy’s other videos are just as fun.

He’s about to flip his phone again to continue watching the video, but his phone vibrates in his hands with a text. Azula again. He pauses the video to read it.

(11:24pm) _Azula:_

**> call uncle tomorrow**

Another text comes in as he opens the first.

(11:24pm) _Azula:_

**> it’s not a big deal, but we got robbed**

Zuko straightens in alarm. _Robbed? Like robbed, robbed?_

(11:25pm) _Me:_

**> Robbed?**

**> Is he okay? Do I need to come back?**

Zuko drums his fingers against his thigh impatiently as he waits for her reply. _Why do serious conversations always have to happen when I'm freshly super stoned? Why?_

(11:28pm) _Azula:_

**> Seems fine, maybe a little shaken**

**> Didn’t stop him from trying to give the asshole advice through metaphore though, fuck**

Zuko rolls his eyes. Of course Uncle would try to talk his way out of being robbed, in the most Iroh way possible.

(11:28pm) _Me:_

**> Well did it work**

(11:29pm) _Azula:_

**> No, Zuzu**

**> Just call him, okay? I’ve gotta go, they want to ask me some questions about what happened to the guys**

(11:29pm) _Me:_

**>...what did you do to them?**

No response.

(11:32pm) _Me:_

**> Azula?**

(11:33pm) _Me:_

**> Uncle will tell me, hope it wasn’t anything illegal.**

(11:33pm) _Azula:_

**> Even if it was I wouldn’t ** **_text_ ** **it to you**

Though she can’t see him, Zuko nods. _That’s fair, I wouldn’t either. It’s definitely too late to call him tonight though. Old man is probably already in bed._ Zuko heaves a sigh, scrubbing his hands over his face, bad eye itching something fierce. He manages to refrain from truly going at his eye, but he knows he needs to find some eye drops soon. And glasses.

He resigns himself to an itchy face, and lays down face first on his messed up mattress instead. Tomorrow he’ll call Uncle and find out what happened, but for tonight, he just wanted to crawl into bed with his phone and zone out to the sound of two high guys and some Skyrim.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on tumblr, I'm sparkynsnoozles


End file.
